Therapy

I nearly didn’t make it, but I’ve not missed a session yet, and I didn’t miss this one, even if my hair was greasy and my clothes were dirty and I had to get a taxi.

I gave her some letters, eventually.

I’d said I did want a diagnosis. So she’s going to email my consultant, and arrange an appointment so we can talk to her together.

I’d asked about the work she’d done with other people with DID – had they gone on to be OK, what did that look like? She said she’d not worked with someone before who was discovering that they had DID, the people she’d seen had already been clear that that was what was going on for them, and the work had been about negotiating with parts and making agreements between them.

As for the rest – she said she wanted to take the time to work it all through with me but that it would take time (she said “lots of sessions”, which has been tucked away carefully with the “I care about you” she once said, to draw comfort from when things are dark) and that her instinct was that now was not the right time, with the house move and everything else that’s going on. She wants to make some kind of book with a page for every part listing the things that comfort/help them.

She said I seem to have this pattern of peaks and troughs and could I see that my current non-functioning was part of the big picture, the other side of having recently been expansive and coping and taking things on. She said she thought I just needed time to recharge and essentially gave me permission to curl up on the sofa and watch boxsets if that’s what I need to do. And she thinks if I can let myself do that, things will ease and lessen.

She sent me home with a note, and it seems she talked to Amelia again. I have – how can I explain this? – some vague memories of it. Like I remember my face shaking and my lip curling and not being able to control it. And I felt the mouth say “EVIL LITTLE BITCH”

She’s given me an appointment for next Friday, and then another one on the following Monday. She said she’ll try to see me every week but I must tell her if it’s too much.

I felt shaken afterwards, but a bit more functional. I was able to walk home, and to get some food on the way. And then, after some time doing nothing on the sofa, I had a bath, and then, after some more time doing nothing on the sofa, I did some laundry. And I’m doing nothing else today except drinking beer and going to sleep.

I saw my lovely CPN in the afternoon – and I plan to write a post about what it is makes her so lovely and good – and she got my bin in for me, and my OTA is visiting tomorrow, and she’s going to help me tidy the house and get some gas and electric, so I’m giving myself the weekend off from worrying about anything and hoping that Monday will find me a bit more able to cope.